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Book Showcase: OUT OF THE DARKNESS by Debra Holz

Out of the Darkness

Aligning Science and Spirit to Overcome Depression

by Debra Holz

March 27 – April 21, 2023 Virtual Book Tour

Synopsis:

Out of the Darkness by Debra Holz

One woman’s courageous journey from the darkness of depression to the light of awakening, healing, joy, and peace.

For 50 years, depression was an insidious tormentor that dictated what Debra Holz believed not only about herself but also the meaning and purpose of life, faith, love and death. Raised by a troubled mother and abusive father, she endured crippling emotional trauma that led her down a dark path of addiction and self-loathing. Decades of talk therapy and psychotropic drugs did little to abate her symptoms.

Determined to end her life, everything changed in 2013 when an internal voice whispered: What if there’s another way to heal depression beyond traditional medical and psychiatric treatments? What unfolded was a way forward that revolutionized her thoughts, reframed her childhood events, and transformed her life. Holz candidly shares the step-by-step approach that she discovered and developed to rewire her brain and, thereby, her neurochemistry-ultimately leading to a deep joy and peace she had never known.

Out of the Darkness is for anyone who suffers with debilitating depression and is open to exploring the cutting-edge science of neuroplasticity. With an estimated 10 percent of Americans struggling with this condition, her book sheds valuable light on why the merging of science and spirit is critically important in overcoming depression. Holz is living proof that it’s possible to triumph over it and emerge out of the darkness.

Praise for Out of the Darkness:

“Debra, you tell the truth and hold the darkness of shame up to the light, and that darkness just disappears. You are brave and courageous—not only for capturing your story but also for persevering and striving to be and do better and maybe to love and be loved. I am honored to know you and see a miracle right before my very eyes.”
~ Carolyn L, Licensed Therapist

 

“Debra has a gift for knowing what readers want to read with her compelling writing style.”
~ Roger Stuart, Editor

 

“While Debra’s book did tell a very sad story, in the end, there was healing and recovery. I enjoyed reading that it is possible to overcome trauma.”
~ C. Losey

 

“I thoroughly enjoyed reading Debra’s book on overcoming obstacles. She is a warrior! Debra mentions many resources she used to overcome her depression, and her autobiography is compelling.”
~ Tammy A.

 

“Debra Holz takes us through the often horrifying journey of depression. She lays out the challenges she faced over a 50-year window. This book is a must-read for everyone and their loved ones struggling with depression. Debra gives us all hope.”
~ Davis

Listen in as Debra shares some of her story:

Book Details:

Genre: Mental Health, Transformation, Neurolinguistics, Depression
Published by: Indie
Publication Date: December 2022
Number of Pages: 193
ISBN: 979-8351544625
Book Links: Amazon | Goodreads

Read an excerpt:

INTRODUCTION

As my eyes slowly flutter open, the blinding glare from the light on the sterile white ceiling causes me to wince. An I.V. bag dangles at the end of a silver pole, its line connected to a needle in my arm. I feel numb yet overwhelmed with despair. My mind is too groggy to comprehend what’s going on.

“Debra, do you know where you are?” a woman asks authoritatively.

I don’t. Wherever I am, the last thing I want is to be there, or anywhere.

“You’re in the emergency room at Western Psychiatric Hospital,” she explains, a bit more gently. I can see through dim eyesight that she appears to be a nurse. “Do you know why you’re here?”

I’m too sleepy to be concerned with her question. She pinches my arm hard to awaken me. I can see through the window that it’s dark, so it must be nighttime. Gradually, the fog clears as the nurse waits for me to respond. Obviously, my plan to kill myself had failed.

The impulse to end my life had consumed me since age 17, and it nearly did win the night before. My plan was firm: Drink enough wine to douse my fear, grab one of the loaded guns that my criminal defense attorney husband, Harrison, kept in our house, and shoot a bullet through my temple. For a decade leading up to this evening, I was too afraid to directly commit suicide, not knowing the possible spiritual consequences (if there is such a thing) in the afterlife. So, I routinely played an alcohol-and-sleeping-pill bedtime roulette, hoping that with the right spin of the sedative wheel, I wouldn’t wake up in the morning.

That fateful night, my drinking binge led to a blackout, which preempted my attempt to finish what I’d started. After I came to in the early morning hours, I told Harrison about my death intention. With a shrug of disgust, he walked into the other room, turned on the television, and proceeded to watch some sporting event. About six hours later, he drove me to Western Psychiatric Institute and Clinic.

The nurse pinches my arm once more, and that’s when I come to my senses and realize that, somehow, I’m still alive. I am deeply and acutely disappointed by this awareness.

What preceded this incident was fifty years of depression, an illness that told me what to think not only about myself but also the meaning of life, death, and the elusive truth about personal value and purpose. It dictated who I was, what to believe and how to feel. A faithful tormentor, depression refused to leave me alone no matter how much I pleaded and sometimes prayed to a deity whose existence I doubted. A merciless opponent, this illness was determined to enslave me with its chronic emotional and mental floggings. All those years, it never ceased and had no regard for how weary I had become.

My brain began wiring itself for depression from the early years of my childhood. Being in its clutches dominated my life by regulating how my brain functioned and allowed despair to overtake my other emotions. Through my teen years and well into adulthood, depression didn’t care about my positive experiences, accomplishments, and other things that should have made me happy. It marred and even ruined what should have been joyous occurrences and events such as my advanced education, career success, dream house with my new husband, and my children’s births.

If you suffer from depression, which I assume you might since you’re reading this book, you may feel as I did that there’s no escape from the misery. But there is. In fact, healing is possible. After a lifetime of suffering, I finally healed my depression outside of traditional medical methods. I reveal on these pages how I step-by-step revolutionized my beliefs, rewired my brain—thereby changing my neurochemistry—and created methods and habits to secure the longevity of my newfound joy and peace. Since 2014, I haven’t had an episode of depression! Hard to believe, isn’t it? I no longer doubt that it’s true and doable.

Healing through depression was, for sure, a spiritual awakening. As I grew through my healing process, my perception of the God I was introduced to as a child changed and expanded my consciousness. For clarification, when I use the word “God” within these chapters, it isn’t quite an accurate noun for what I consider “source, divine awareness, the creator.” So, for the sake of simplicity and since for many it’s common usage, I will say “God” interchangeably with these other terms.

My healing journey was a deep dive into the realms of science, as well. I share how quantum physics is relevant to healing depression, as well as how the brain works and how to rewire it away from depression. I also share emotional, spiritual, and behavioral exercises that, little by little, you’ll be able to integrate into your own life. As you take tiny then small steps at first, you’ll discover an increase in your life force energy. Eventually, you will be able to work on bigger and bigger tasks towards full healing.

First, let’s review a definition of depression and its ramifications. The Mayo Clinic describes depression as “a mood disorder that causes a persistent feeling of sadness … [that] affects how you feel, think, and behave and can lead to a variety of emotional and physical problems.” According to the World Health Organization, depression is a leading cause of disability; worldwide, it’s estimated that 264 million people suffer from it. Interestingly, more women experience depression and suicidal ideations than men, but men have higher rates of successful suicides. And the United States ranks as one of five countries with the highest numbers of depression sufferers. Though there may be other causes of depression, it is typically attributed to factors such as the brain’s faulty neurological mood regulation, genetics, emotional and physical trauma, childhood neglect and abuse, and major life stressors, including serious medical issues. What’s more, the National Institutes of Health reports that depression is associated with a higher risk of early mortality, and approximately 7.9 fewer years of life expectancy.

Unfortunately, those who haven’t suffered from depression sometimes expect a depressed person to just “snap out of it . . . stop the self-pity . . . think positive.” But when a person is clinically depressed, it’s typically impossible to “snap out of it” or simply solve the issue by thinking positively. While it may appear that a depressed person is self-pitying, they are usually filled with self-contempt and shame about their condition, as I was. And “recovering” without guidance and other forms of help is unlikely.

When I attempted to feel better, a haunting sadness assured me that I couldn’t escape the darkness and pain. As the years passed with no relief, the belief that something was intrinsically wrong with me and that I would never get better gained momentum. At the same time, I couldn’t shake the sensation that disaster was right around the corner. I harbored the continuous terrorizing sense that I was in ocean-deep water with my chin just above the surface, dogpaddling like crazy so I wouldn’t go under. I knew that if I did, it would be the end of me.

I got plenty of traditional counseling over the decades, starting with my first therapist at age 17. I accepted what she and all my subsequent mental health professionals told me about my biologically based, supposedly incurable illness. For over three decades, the psychiatrists and therapists who considered me their patient insisted that only therapy and psychiatric drugs would help me gain power over my depression. Looking back, I believe that they truly wanted to help me. Yet, despite their efforts and my earnest attempts to feel better, I remained powerless. Though I functioned—at times scarcely or not at all—I passed through the decades barely engaged in life. For those who didn’t know me well, most of the time, I appeared to be functional and, well, “normal.” I completed my bachelor’s degree by age 21 and began my professional life, at which I succeeded, eventually owning my own company at age 29. At times, I appeared happy, I even had a sense of humor, and was talkative and outgoing; this was all a façade. From my outward appearance, I may have seemed fine; but inside, I was tormented. Only those closest to me knew.

By my late forties, the pain of depression and all the meds I was taking were not only emotionally but also physically debilitating. It occupied my mind and body. I could focus on nothing else. I dreaded the future and saw no possibility of relief ahead. It all culminated in 2007, when I intentionally drank too much wine and located Harrison’s gun. If he hadn’t taken me to Western Psych, I most probably wouldn’t have made it—which wouldn’t have been the worst-case scenario. In fact, despite my desire to be free from pain, I felt paralyzed and suffered terribly from my inability to follow through with suicide. Besides dooming my children, I envisioned that the horror of a failed attempt might render me conscious yet stuck in a useless, wordless body—and more disconsolate than ever. Being trapped with emotional and mental torment forever, unable to communicate or move—still not knowing what will happen when I die—would be, I imagined, the most inescapable torture of all.

This is what struck me as I slowly awakened in the emergency room at Western Psych and what eventually gave me the courage to find a better way, beyond traditional therapy and pharmaceuticals, to finally take control of my health, my mind, my life. It was, essentially, a turning point from dark to light.

That is why I’ve titled this book Out of the Darkness: Aligning Science and Spirit to Overcome Depression. Not only have I healed my depression through means outside of traditional mental health treatment, I’ve also been lovingly led into the light—a persistent, impenetrable condition of joy, contentment, and peace. For that, I am abundantly and endlessly thankful. It is nothing short of a transformation into a way of being that I had never dreamed was possible. Every morning, I awake joyful and grateful to have been gifted another depression-free day. As of this writing, I am eight years without depression’s malevolence. I still can hardly believe it. I marvel when life continues to throw difficult challenges my way, but I remain mostly unfazed.

I fear not because I know that I am beyond the risk of descending back into the darkness. Finally living fully and embracing life consciously, I now feel a sense of responsibility and purpose to share my experience with those who suffer with this dreadful/deplorable condition. My mission is to shed light on effective alternative ways to heal, so that others may emerge out of the darkness and enjoy lives of joy, health, and peace.

***

Excerpt from Out of the Darkness: Aligning Science and Spirit to Overcome Depression by Debra Holz. Copyright 2022 by Debra Holz. Reproduced with permission from Debra Holz. All rights reserved.

Author Bio:

Debra Holz

Debra Holz is the author of Out of the Darkness: Aligning Science and Spirit to Overcome Depression, which won The Authors’ Zone (TAZ) national award in the non-fiction category and achieved bestseller status on Amazon.

A natural storyteller, her book chronicles her 50-year struggle with major clinical depression and ultimately, how she healed her brain and balanced her neurochemistry beyond traditional psychiatric treatment. Using neuroplasticity techniques she developed and a major change in her underlying beliefs, she rewired and healed her brain and has been depression free since 2014.

It is her passionate mission to share her story with as many depression sufferers as possible so they too may heal themselves.

Debra has been a successful freelance writer and journalist since 1985. Besides her talent for direct response creativity, she is known for her expertise in legal content for major law firms as well as the technology and computer industry, banks, and investment corporations. She also has written for many major city newspapers.

Catch Up With Debra Holz:
DebraHolz.life
Facebook Group: OUT OF THE DARKNESS WITH DEBRA HOLZ

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Guest Post: Ash Bishop – INTERGALACTIC EXTERMINATORS INC

Happy Friday, my bookish peeps, and welcome to Fall 2022. I know that there are plenty of good books, often excellent books, released throughout the year, but there’s just something about the cooler weather that calls for a comfy blanket, hot drink, and a good book. If you’re interested in something a little different, then please help me welcome Ash Bishop, author of Intergalactic Exterminators, Inc. The title and cover alone are enough to pique my interest. Mr. Bishop will be discussing with us characters and the importance of inner conflict. I hope you’ll enjoy what he has to share. Thank you, Mr. Bishop, for taking the time to join us today, the blog is now all yours.

On Inner Conflict
by Ash Bishop

My debut novel, Intergalactic Exterminators, Inc is about a young man, Russ Wesley, who gets offered a job hunting dangerous aliens. A squad of ragtag misfits wants him to join their ranks. He’ll be a space exterminator tasked with removing displaced creatures that are doing harm to their new ecosystem. Remember the way Ridley Scott’s Alien laid its eggs in people’s stomachs and eventually the newborn critter had to burst its way out? That’s the kind of harmful cross-species behavior they want Russ to help them stop. It seems like an interesting, albeit dangerous, job. So why doesn’t Russ want to take it?

Russ is from Earth, and he doesn’t like responsibility very much. He struggled in school, probably due to a generous helping of undiagnosed attention deficit disorder. He doesn’t have much of a relationship with his father. Ironically, his mother was too busy working hard to reinforce any kind of work ethic. He begins the novel avoiding as much responsibility as he can. Instead of putting down roots anywhere, he drifts around the United States picking up temporary jobs and looking for ways to entertain himself. He uses disposable cell phones expressly so he can throw them away once too many people get his number.

There’s a sweet freedom to this lifestyle but there’s also a heavy cost. He’s avoiding all the complicated messiness of responsibility, but he’s also removing himself from the possibility of making deep connections, enriching other people’s lives, helping, mattering. Though it’s hard for Russ to articulate, he understands that up to this point, he’s been wasting his life.

When I was younger, I was really attracted to nomadic, lawless, emotionally distant characters. Puberty was complicated enough; I didn’t need my heroes to be navigating their own complex feelings. I was a big fan of Raymond Chandler’s Philip Marlowe, with his acerbic wit and powerful indifference. Chandler never let anything get to him. He’d seen the worst of humanity and he knew that eventually, everyone would disappoint him. As such, he just muscled through the mess of mankind, searching for the elusive “truth.” I saw the same power in Batman. In the corniest of his comics, he palled around with Robin and Alfred, but the best stories were just Batman hunting for crime in the mean streets of Gotham, swinging from a bat-cable and being bat-ass. His aloof attitude and emotional distance made him virtually untouchable to the things that scared young Ash Bishop the most. I’m not talking about the Joker or Scarecrow. I’m talking about emotional connections, feelings.

Years later I’m now a father with two kids of my own who read Batman comics. A little while ago, on the recommendation of a friend, I picked up Lee Child’s Jack Reacher series, thinking it would be fun to wade back into the fantasy of unobstructed freedom I’d so appreciated during my younger years. Reacher wanders around the United States, remaining loyal to his friends but only from a safe distance. He usually doesn’t come to their aid until they’re already dead. The books are clever and well written but I stopped reading midway through the second one. Despite his constant, violent altruism, Reacher’s emotional and physical distancing, didn’t appeal to me anymore.

So why does my main character begin the novel wandering the United States in a lifestyle so similar to Reacher’s? Because you don’t want to start your characters fully rounded. You want them to learn, and grow over the course of the story. You want them to have to fight against their own limiting impulses and become better people.

In the second chapter, Russ learns of his beloved Grandfather’s death. He drives from Louisiana to Wyoming to attend the funeral and his grandmother is very happy to see him. She’s been caring for her dying husband, alone, and she’s exhausted and her business is collapsing. Russ sweeps in, invigorated and ready to help her pick up the pieces. The other men in town admire Russ’s carefree lifestyle. They are shouldering so many burdens, paying their mortgage, running their own business, and doing their part to care for their complex families. As one tells Russ, “This is a gift, what you’re doing to help your grandma. But take my advice: avoid putting down roots as long as you can. Roots are just a fancy word for life-crushing responsibility. I didn’t have this gray hair until I had roots.”

Russ appreciates the compliment, but is it good advice? He’s sitting on an unsigned work contract of his own. One that will make him enough money to support his grandmother more permanently. Better yet, it will transport him to the farthest reaches of space and see him take incredible risks and make lasting friendships. If only he can muster the courage to walk away from the fantasy of Batman, Marlowe, and Reacher…

Pick up Intergalactic Exterminators, Inc after Sept 6th to enjoy the ride.

Intergalactic Exterminators Inc

by Ash Bishop

September 1-30, 2022 Virtual Book Tour

Synopsis:

Finding work is easy. Staying alive is a little bit harder.

Intergalactic Exterminators Inc by Ash Bishop
When Russ Wesley finds an unusual artifact in his grandfather’s collection of rare antiquities, the last thing he expects is for it to draw the attention of a ferocious alien from a distant planet. Equally surprising is the adventurous team of intergalactic exterminators dispatched to deal with the alien threat. They’re a little wild, and a little reckless. Worse yet, they’re so impressed with Russ’s marksmanship that they insist he join their squad . . . whether he wants to or not.

 

Praise for Intergalactic Exterminators, Inc:

“This book is so much fun it ought to be illegal in all known galaxies. Ash Bishop has written a wildly imagined, deeply felt, swashbuckling page turner. I loved it.”

Jesse Kellerman, New York Times bestselling author of The Burning

 

 

Book Details

Genre: Science Fiction
Published by: Camcat Books
Publication Date: September 6th, 2022
Number of Pages: 416
ISBN10: 0744305616 (hardcover)
ISBN13: 9780744305616 (hardcover)
ASIN: B0B75QDF4D (Audible Audiobook)
ASIN: B09RJMDDPB (Kindle edition)
Purchase Links #CommissionEarned: IndieBound.org | Amazon | Amazon Kindle | Audible Audiobook | Barnes and Noble | BookDepository.com | Bookshop.org | Goodreads | CamCat Books

Author Bio:

Ash Bishop

Ash Bishop is a lifetime reader and a lifetime nerd, loving all things science fiction and fantasy. He has been a high school English teacher and worked in the video game industry, as well as in educational app development. He even used to fetch coffee for Quentin Tarantino during the production of the film Jackie Brown. Bishop currently produces script coverage for a major Hollywood studio, but he spends his best days at home in Southern California with his wonderful wife and two wonderful children. He earned an MFA in Creative Writing from San Diego State University. This is his debut novel.

Find Our Ash Bishop Online:

AshBishop.com
Goodreads
BookBub – @Ashlbishop
Instagram – @ashlbishop
Twitter – @AshLBishop
Facebook
TikTok – @ashlbishop

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Guest Post: Carin Fahr Shulusky – FINDING LIGHT IN A LOST YEAR

Good day, book people. Now that we seem to be coming out of the never-ending pandemic, there are quite a few books being released dealing with the horrors of these past two years. The emotional, psychological, and physical toll of the past two years may be felt by many of us for years to come, but we are surviving if not exactly thriving. I’m pleased to welcome today’s guest, Carin Fahr Shulusky, author of Finding Light in a Lost Year. Ms. Shulusky has written about one woman’s struggle with the pandemic and she’ll be discussing that with us today. Please give a warm welcome to Ms. Carin Fahr Shulusky. Thank you, Ms. Shulusky, for joining us today and sharing some insight into your main character. I’ll now turn the blog over to you.

Finding Light in a Lost Year
Getting to know Roni Wright
By Carin Fahr Shulusky

 

Some of my early reviewers said it was hard to like the main character of Finding Light in a Lost Year, Veronica (Roni) Wright, at least in the beginning. I would agree. It wasn’t my goal to write a book about a perfect person. Those people are seldom interesting. Also, it’s very difficult to create a character arc for a perfect person. I think it’s far more interesting to read about a person with significant flaws who finds a way to make herself better. That is Roni Wright. I hope, however, by the end of the book all my readers will have fallen in love with her.

Roni Wright is a focused career woman. She has the “perfect” husband and the obligatory two children. She loves them all but her childrens’ nanny may know them better than she does, and she certainly is not the perfect wife. Nor is her husband an ideal husband. He too is so focused on his career, that he has ignored the problems in his family. That’s before the pandemic. I often heard from celebrities that the pandemic made them get to know their families because they could no longer travel. I suspect that is true for most people. Our lives were so hectic, racing off to work, the gym, and school we didn’t spend much time getting to know our loved ones in a deep way.

Enter the pandemic. Suddenly these people Roni saw for snippets here and there she was now spending all day with, three meals a day, 24/7. I suspect this was a common experience. I don’t think it worked well for everyone. Certainly not for Roni Wright. Before the pandemic, Roni had seldom cooked a full meal for her family and now was called on to prepare three meals a day for a family shut up together. While her career was in shambles, her husband was trying to work from home, a totally new experience for them all. Most of their previous outlets for entertainment and recreation were gone. No restaurants or movies or museums. Even some parks were closed. But Roni becomes a heroine in the story by using her career resourcefulness to guide her family through the worst pandemic in a hundred years. She learns to cook, she finds safe outlets for recreation, and she reinvents herself. In the process, she gets to know her children. Her marriage nearly falls apart, but she works on restoring that, too.

One thing Roni never counted on becoming was a teacher. She was quite comfortable leaving that job to the school and nanny. Like most parents, Roni had to walk her children through virtual learning during the pandemic. This may be the most difficult experience for most parents. Roni was no different. In the beginning, it was a disaster. But like everything else, Roni finds a creative way to make it work. She did this all while suffering not only the loss of her career but the biggest loss of her life. I suspect readers will cry at her great loss. I cried as I wrote it. But only when we are in the greatest valley, can we see the joy of the mountain top. So, it is with Roni Wright. There is light in a year of so much loss. I hope my readers find it with Roni. ♦

Finding Light in a Lost Year

by Carin Fahr Shulusky

May 16 – June 10, 2022 Virtual Book Tour

Synopsis:

Finding Light in a Lost Year by Carin Fahr Shulusky

Roni Wright thought she had everything; huge home, successful husband, kids, and a brilliant career. That is until the worse pandemic in 100 years swept away the shallow façade of her life and she nearly lost it all.

 

This is the story of how a broken family navigated the most difficult year of their lives and found hope in the middle of so much loss. You will recognize many of the things that nearly broke us all as we struggled with pandemic restrictions and the new normal. But you will cheer as they work their way out of darkness into a better world.

Book Details

Genre: Family & Relationship, Biographical Fiction
Published by: Fossil Creek Press
Publication Date: May 2022
Number of Pages: 170
ISBN: 9781736241721 (paperback)
ASIN: B09ZRMBSHG (Kindle edition)
Purchase Links #CommissionEarned: IndieBound.org | Amazon | Amazon Kindle | Barnes & Noble | Bookdepository.com | Bookshop.org

Author Bio:

Carin Fahr Shulusky

Carin Fahr Shulusky was born and raised in west St. Louis County. She attended the University of Missouri, Columbia, where she received a B.J (Bachelor of Journalism). After college, she worked in advertising for GE and Monsanto. She was the first professional woman in her division of each. After 25 years in Marketing, she created her own firm, Marketing Alliance. She was president of Marketing Alliance, from 2002 – 2014. She is a past president of the Business Marketing Association of St. Louis. Carin Fahr is married to Richard Shulusky. They have two grown children and one marvelous granddaughter. Grandma Carin has a lifelong love of cooking, even writing her own cookbook. In 2014 Carin retired to devote full time to writing. Her first book, In the Middle, was inspired by her own battle to care for her beloved mother, Dorothy Fahr. Many of the stories Carrie Young’s mother tells her in In the Middle came from Carin’s mother. Carin is a lifelong member of Pathfinder Church in Ellisville, Missouri, where she volunteers in early childhood.

Find Carin Online:

carinshulusky.com
Goodreads
Instagram – @cshulusky
Twitter – @shulusky
Facebook

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Guest Author: Bill Fentress – THE YELLOW HONEYSUCKLE IS THE SWEETEST

Good day, my bookish peeps. As I’ve often said in the past, I’m an eclectic reader. I enjoy reading nonfiction and fiction, as well as short stories, essays, graphic novels, novels, etc. If it’s an interesting read, then chances are I’m going to read it. This is just one of the reasons why I’m pleased to welcome today’s guest, Bill Fentress, author of The Yellow Honeysuckle is the Sweetest, a collection of of 14 short stories about family and more. Mr. Fentress will be piquing our interest a bit with his essay “My Best Day Ever.” I sincerely hope you’ll enjoy it, grab a copy of The Yellow Honeysuckle is the Sweetest, and follow this blog tour to learn more about this book and author. Thank you, Mr. Fentress, for joining us today and a special thank you for sharing this essay.

My Best Day Ever
by Bill Fentress

I suppose one of my identifiers now is “author.” So, perhaps this post should revolve around my best day ever as a writer…or perhaps as an author? I thoroughly enjoy writing, especially when I am on a roll. But my best day ever had nothing to do with writing. It was June 19, 2003.

That day started in the spring of 2002 when my wife, Susan, and I met with doctors in Chapel Hill, NC. After trying to have a baby with no success, we had been referred to those doctors by Susan’s OB-GYN. It had been determined that our best bet was to find out if we were candidates for in-vitro. I can still remember my discussion with Susan in her office the day we got the last of the initial tests back from her local doctor. She worked on the floor just below me in the same office building. We had been expecting tests results that day and they had indeed been delivered to her over the phone. “Well, what did the doctor say?” I asked, closing her office door behind me, anticipating there to be some fertility problem with her that we would just have to workaround. “Actually, there is an issue with you, baby,” she relayed, with a regretful glance up from her desk. I will never forget that surprised, stunned, sickening feeling that engulfed me as I looked into her hopeful eyes. Me? I thought. “What is the problem?” I asked – still reeling. She continued to explain our issue and told me that our best bet, according to the local doctor, was to visit Chapel Hill and talk to their specialists.

The next week, we drove to Chapel Hill and met with one of their top fertility doctors and his assistant. He was very informative and encouraging – frank, but supportive. We spent roughly an hour and a half in the meeting, sitting across a conference table from him. The entire time, my banker soul was wanting to know the bottom line…the odds…will the deal work? “I feel really good about your chances,” he told us, as he leaned forward over the table, his relaxed mannerisms soothing our internal nervousness.

“Doctor,” I said. “I deal in loans every day, and percentages. Exactly, what does ‘good chances’ mean?” In my cash flow and debt service-warped mind, I was thinking…It’s got to be 93-100%…surely. “Oh, your odds are very good with this particular procedure. I would say approximately 35%.” That news hit me and Susan worse than the original news regarding our situation. I remember feeling stunned, like I had just been in a car accident. Not hurt…just shocked by what I had heard. I regrouped. “Thirty-five percent? Why so low?” Yep, I had to ask. “Well, what you need to understand is this procedure just gets you up to nature’s normal percentages that guide whether anyone gets pregnant. And typically, there is only about a 35% chance you will get pregnant at any given time. But I feel your chances are excellent for success. Take all the time you need to think about it. Here are our numbers. Call and ask for me when you are ready to talk further. I am available at any time. I will do anything to help.”

I don’t remember saying goodbye. I don’t remember walking out the door. I don’t remember hitting the elevator button or riding down to the lobby. I was still shocked by the car accident around that conference table. I don’t recall anything until we got to the walkway heading toward the parking deck just across Manning Drive from UNC-Chapel Hill Hospital. I looked over at my equally stunned, but stalwart bride. “What do you think?” I ventured first, as we walked in step heading toward our car. The air in my college town did not feel as light as it had 20 years earlier, or even 2 hours before the conclusion of our consultation. “I’m not sure we really have a choice,” Susan replied. She looked over at me, wanting my opinion, and hoping I felt the same. We locked eyes and I knew then we would go for it. “I agree. If we want a child, let’s roll with it.” That was it. No looking back. Our heads were down, and we were set, like plow mules turning into the next row. And we continued a vigil that had started months earlier…and would continue months later. We prayed together every night…asking God to give us the gift of a child.

We started in-vitro in September 2002. It consisted of regimented shots leading up to the all-important conception procedure. Then we spent an agonizing 2 weeks waiting to take the most important test of our lives. I will never forget a nurse friend of ours telling us we did not have to wait until Friday for the blood test. She said a pregnancy test on Wednesday would let us know…if we wanted to know. We discussed it and could not wait any longer. Susan put the strip on the kitchen table and took a seat in her chair in the den. We both prayed…and sat there…every emotion in our bodies at a precipice. After the prescribed time, I looked at her and she nodded. I’ve had many important walks in my life: down the aisle (twice), graduations, getting up to speak in front of hundreds, and walking over to the first pretty girl out of my league that I asked to dance, in front of my buddies. None were as nervous as that 30-foot walk to the kitchen. I looked down at the strip. I picked it up, blinked, and re-blinked.

“How dark do the lines have to be?” I asked. “It doesn’t matter. If there are 2 lines, I’m pregnant,” came Susan’s hidden plea. I looked again…and blinked again. There they were…one was faint…but there were two lines – one bolder than the other. “Well, I see 2 lines!”

Susan ran into the kitchen screaming the whole way. She grabbed the strip and looked at me with the happiest tears I’ve ever seen. We hugged for a long time. That is a hug everybody should have right there. We just about wore out that two-line strip, picking it up and looking at it until late into the night…only beginning to anticipate our dreams. I’ve not cried and smiled simultaneously many times in my life…that was one night I did.

Sarah Elizabeth was one of eight eggs that were fertilized, and one of 4 that were implanted. “You were one of eight,” we tell her. And she was born June 19, 2003. The best day of my life. By far. ♦

The Yellow Honeysuckle is the Sweetest

by Bill Fentress

March 14 – April 8, 2022 Virtual Book Tour

 

Synopsis:

The Yellow Honeysuckle is the Sweetest by Bill Fentress

THE YELLOW HONEYSUCKLE IS THE SWEETEST is a salute by the author to a lifetime of outdoor experiences in eastern North Carolina and beyond. It encompasses 14 true short stories about family, friendships, and the emotions involved in hunting, fishing, and other outdoor-related topics. It is not a how-to book, nor just a compilation of hunting and fishing stories; it describes how simple family and personal interactions, with the outdoor sports and unmatched natural beauty as a backdrop, can result in treasured memories like perhaps no other pursuits.

If you hunt and fish, or grew up enjoying histories of family traditions and friendships revolving around the outdoors – whether it be in North Carolina, or elsewhere – THE YELLOW HONEYSUCKLE IS THE SWEETEST is for you.

Book Details

Genre: Sports, (as in Hunting and Fishing), Nature, Family, Memoir
Published by: Indie
Publication Date: February 3, 2022
Number of Pages: 257
ISBN: 979-8-9855598-1-1
Purchase Links: Amazon | Goodreads

Here’s a word from our author:

Author Bio:

Bill Fentress

Bill Fentress is a retired banker and current Finance Officer in eastern North Carolina. A current resident of New Bern, NC, Bill grew up in Pamlico County, North Carolina, where many of his hunting and fishing experiences in The Yellow Honeysuckle is the Sweetest take place. He has enjoyed nature’s beauty and God’s gifts of family and the outdoors throughout his lifetime, in North Carolina and elsewhere.

Learn More About Bill Online:

BillFentress.com
Goodreads
Facebook – @billfentressauthor

Tour Host Participants:

Visit these other great hosts on this tour for more great reviews, interviews, guest posts, and giveaways!

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ENTER TO WIN:

This is a giveaway hosted by Providence Book Promotions for Bill Fentress. See the widget for entry terms and conditions. Void where prohibited.

 

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Guest Post: David Marlett – AMERICAN RED


Good day, my fellow book people. Instead of focusing on contemporary fiction, today our sights are turning to history, specifically historical fiction as I welcome the author of the recently released American Red, David Marlett. Mr. Marlett is an award-winning author of historical fiction and today he will be providing us with some background information on how this book came into being. So let’s travel back in time with Mr. Marlett and American Red.





Ten years ago, I had heard about the first assassination by bombing in the United States (of the governor of Idaho in 1906), and I was familiar with Clarence Darrow’s famous closing argument in the subsequent murder trial. But my interest in tackling this sweeping epic as a historical novel didn’t begin until I read J. Anthony Lukas’s non-fiction book on the subject, Big Trouble. That lead me to explore more, and with each additional trial transcript and uncovered fact, the closer I came to the story. Soon the characters began to take form, and the plot structure began to reveal itself. But, as it is a big story across a large part of the United States, a significant obstacle was narrowing the story to its key events and characters, finding the arcs, etc., and of course, deciding what I wanted the novel to say.

Even with that narrowing, and the merging (in a couple of instances) of historical characters into single invented ones, etc., American Red still plays host to an ensemble cast—each with unique traits, strengths, quirks, weaknesses. I was once asked whom among them I most enjoyed writing—to which I responded that it was the old Pinkerton, Chief Detective James McParland. He was one of American Red‘s many actual characters from history—a true-to-life man, bold and brazen—wildly famous at the time for his daring detective work. We find him squinting at the dimming light of his life and career, while rooted in the century that had passed. So, he does what he knows—he takes action—one big gamble, one last major action, convincing himself that the flagrant illegalities he undertakes are balanced by the justice he is trying to bring. I love his single-minded focus in the face of such obvious conflicts of loyalty and duty. That moral struggle and wrestling with mortality is so universal that McParland rises to almost iconic stature.

American Red is unique among historical novels, even those set in American history. Rather than addressing oft-trod paths and characters, American Red ventures into a societal wilderness, a lesser-explored time in American history that seems shockingly familiar, even over a hundred years later. I am hard-pressed to find a comparable book of that time and geographic area. Most historical crime stories of that era focus on mob developments on the east coast, of the first-generation immigrant experience. But American Red tackles the men and women of what was, by then, the end of the Wild West. The march of technological advancement had arrived, and their isolationist world was collapsing, with new international ideas flooding in, seeping out into the far west. To me, this is far more reflective of who/what America would become—as the nation unknowingly raced toward the World Wars and the Depression. Further, American Red provides a glancing, raw image of the unique role of faith of the era, and a candid look at the relationships between men and women. American Red is a tapestry of humanity (not just Americans), both in honor and in horror, both in victory and defeat—and therein do can we see ourselves. 






Author Bio:


David Marlett

David Marlett is an award-winning storyteller and writer of historical fiction, primarily historical legal thrillers bringing alive the fascinating people and events leading to major historical trials. His first such novel, Fortunate Son, became a national bestseller in 2014, rising to #2 in all historical fiction and #3 in all literature and fiction on Amazon. The late Vincent Bugliosi — #1 New York Times bestselling author of Helter Skelter

— said David is “a masterful writer of historical fact and detail, of adventure, peril and courtroom drama.” Just released is American Red which follows the extraordinary true story of a set of radical lovers, lawyers, killers, and spies who launched the Great American Century. Visit www.AmericanRedBook.com. He is currently writing his next historical legal thriller, Angeles Los, which continues some of the lead characters from American Red. Angeles Los is based on the true story at the 1910 intersection of the first movies made in Los Angeles, the murderous bombing of the Los Angeles Times, and eccentric Abbot Kinney’s “Venice of America” kingdom. In addition, David is a professor at Pepperdine Law School, was the managing editor of OMNI Magazine, and guest-lectures on story design. He is a graduate of The University of Texas School of Law, the father of four, and lives in Manhattan Beach, California. For more, visit www.DavidMarlett.com.

Find Our Author Online:


davidmarlett.com | Goodreads | BookBub | Twitter | Facebook




American Red

by David Marlett

on Tour July 1 – August 31, 2019


Synopsis:


American Red by David Marlett


In American Red, as the Great American Century begins, and the modern world roars to life, Capitalists flaunt greed and seize power, Socialists and labor unions flex their violent will, and an extraordinary true story of love and sacrifice unfolds.

In his critically acclaimed debut novel, Fortunate Son, David Marlett introduced readers to a fresh take on historical fiction-the historical legal thriller-bringing alive the people and events leading to and surrounding some of the most momentous, dramatic legal trials in history. Now he returns with American Red, the story of one of the greatest domestic terrorists in American history, and the detectives, lawyers, spies, and lovers who brought him down.

The men and women of American Red are among the most fascinating in American history. When, at the dawn of the 20th century, the Idaho governor is assassinated, blame falls on “Big Bill” Haywood, the all-powerful, one-eyed boss of the Western Federation of Miners in Denver. Close by, his polio-crippled wife, Neva, struggles with her wavering faith, her love for another man, and her sister’s affair with her husband. New technologies accelerate American life, but justice lags behind. Private detectives, battling socialists and unions on behalf of wealthy capitalists, will do whatever it takes to see Haywood hanged. The scene is set for bloodshed, from Denver to Boise to San Francisco. America’s most famous attorney, Clarence Darrow, leads the defense-a philandering U.S. senator leads the prosecution-while the press, gunhands, and spies pour in. Among them are two idealists, Jack Garrett and Carla Capone-he a spy for the prosecution, she for the defense. Risking all, they discover truths about their employers, about themselves and each other, and what they’ll sacrifice for justice and honor-and for love.



Book Details


Genre: Historical Fiction
Published by: The Story Plant
Publication Date: July 2nd 2019
Number of Pages: 535
ISBN: 1611881781 (ISBN13: 9781611881783)
Purchase Links:  Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Goodreads




Tour Host Participants:


Visit these other great hosts on this tour for more great reviews, interviews, guest posts, and giveaways!


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Guest Post: Peter Murphy – THE LAST WEEKEND OF THE SUMMER



Hello, my bookish divas and divos. I’m always interested in learning what makes authors tick, so to speak. What makes them feel compelled to write? Why do they write the stories they write? Today, I’m honored to host a visit by Peter Murphy, author of the recently released The Last Weekend of the Summer and more, and he’ll be revealing his path to becoming a writer. Ladies and gents, I give you Mr. Peter Murphy.






Looking back, I suppose it was inevitable that I should end up as a writer.


I was born in Killarney, Ireland, the youngest of six boys who ranged from four to sixteen years older than me. My mother was a woman of intellect and in another time might not have been “harnessed” with a family. She was inspiring but had a sharp tongue and little patience for fools—and on occasion children. Her peer group included women who went on to have a profound impact on Ireland in their various fields, law, literature, education, and politics. She died many years ago but she would have been proud of what I became; as well as a vibrant critic as she was a bit of a cultural snob.

My father was once a charming fellow who succumbed to alcoholism and made life hell on earth for my family. But he had one gift—he was a great storyteller. In those times when he tried to reconnect with all that he was losing, I was treated to bedtime stories of such vibrancy that I remembered every detail when I shared them with my own children.

Growing up, our house was like a dusty old library. There were books everywhere. On tables, on chairs, on window ledges and, of course, in the bathroom. My mother would not allow television. She often declared, with a sniff and quick flick of her head, that television would make the world a far more stupid place. Instead, we read and, as my older brothers had a very wide range of interests, I read a great variety of books—some of which might not have been age appropriate.

Like most families, we had our share of sibling rivalries and our choice in books became ammunition in the fiery debates that occurred. As the youngest, I was constantly negotiating shifting alliances and for the sake of inclusion, tried to read them all. And borrowed opinions on what I read until I was old enough to form my own. The result is that I tend to be genre-free in my reading and, I suppose, in my writing. 

That said I devoured all of the Agatha Christie books I could find. I had a Len Deighton period, toured the old west with Louis L’Amour, had wonderful childhood summers with Enid Blyton, and when it was time to understand all things female, studied Jane Austen.

I struggled through Joyce and rewarded myself with the rest of the Irish mob, Flan O’Brien, James Stephens, the great and gracious Edna O’Brien who wrote what could not be said aloud back then. She was a bit dark but then there was the delightful Maeve Binchy who I met through my mother—back when she was just starting out.

I got serious for a while with the Germans, Hesse during my transcendental period, Mann when I began to “study” writing, and Heinrich Böll after I discovered a discarded copy of The Clown. 

I enjoyed many laughs with P.G. Wodehouse and Tom Sharpe, indulged my love of legend and lore with Tolkien and Alan Garner, wandered through Sci-Fi, Religious, Irreligious, Political . . . The list goes on and on to this day.

The point of all of this is that I cannot define what genre I write in. I don’t even try anymore. I prefer to think of myself as a storyteller because that is what it is. I have the same view of most things we might call “art.” It is about telling a story through one media or another. I am happy with that and refrain from getting involved in the type of discussion where one might hear terms like “Literature,” “postmodern,” “metanarrative.” I think there are bigger problems in the world and I do confess to indulging in guilty pleasures like watching a favorite TV show but don’t tell my mother.

I have had, by accident and by design, a very interesting life so far. I have had my share of heartbreak and setback, but I think this journey we are on is remarkable—so remarkable that I have to tell stories about it.

Notwithstanding what I said early, my first novel, Lagan Love, was filed under literary fiction. It had to be. It was my homage to Dublin and the times I had lived in. I wrote it to keep a promise to my younger self. As a young man I spent hours in a pub called Grogan’s. It was, and remains, a literary type of place in that writers and other artsy types frequent it, along with the more down to earth. Lagan Love was conceived there and you can read about that here: http://peterdamienmurphy.blogspot.com/2012/11/the-story-behind-lagan-love.html.

Following that, I began a story about a young man with a very checkered future. After three different attempts to get the story started, I came to the realization that it had to be a trilogy and thus Born & Bred, Wandering In Exile, and All Roads were born. They tell the story of a life that was so disrupted by past events that the protagonist, Danny Boyle, almost misses out on all of the wonderful things his future tried to give him. It is not—and I repeat not—autobiographical although much of what happened in the story happened all around me, and to people I knew. It is the product of the very interesting times we live in.

With The Last Weekend of the Summer, I suppose I am paying direct homage to the institution that shapes most of us—family. For that is where we are formed and that is where our most dominant influences come from. And, with the life I have had so far, something that I just had to write about.






The Last Weekend Of The Summer

by Peter Murphy
on Tour September 1 – October 31, 2018
The Last Weekend Of The Summer by Peter Murphy cover



Synopsis:



They have been coming to their grandmother Gloria’s lake cottage since they were babies. Now Johnnie and Buddy have families of their own and C.C. has a life full of adult drama and adventure. And this trip – the only stated purpose of which is to bring the family together for the last weekend of the summer – seems full of portent. Gloria has been hinting that there’s more on the agenda than grilling and swimming, and when the three siblings learn that their estranged father will also be in attendance, it becomes clear that this weekend will have implications that last far beyond the final days of the season.

A touching, incisive view into the dynamics of a family on the verge of change and filled with characters both distinctive and utterly relatable, The Last Weekend of the Summer is a rich, lyrical reading experience that will resonate in your heart.


Book Details


Genre: Literary Fiction

Published by: The Story Plant

Publication Date: August 28, 2018

Number of Pages: 224

ISBN: 1611882575 (ISBN13: 9781611882575)

Purchase Links:   Amazon Barnes & Noble Goodreads




Author Bio:


The Last Weekend Of The Summer by Peter Murphy author

Peter Murphy was born in Killarney where he spent his first three years before his family had to move to Dublin. Growing up in the verdant braes of Templeogue, Peter was schooled by the De La Salle brothers in Churchtown where he played rugby for “The Wine and Gold.” He also played football (soccer) in secret! After that, he graduated and studied the Humanities in Grogan’s under the guidance of Scot’s corner and the bar staff, Paddy, Tommy, and Sean. Murphy financed his education by working summers on the buildings sites of London. He also tramped the roads of Europe playing music and living without a care in the world.

But his move to Canada changed all of that. He only came over for a while and ended up living there for more than thirty years. He took a day job and played music in the bars at night until the demands of family life intervened. Having raised his children and packed them off to university, Murphy answered the long-ignored internal voice and began to write. He has published five novels so far and has begun work on a new one. Nowadays, he lives in beautiful Lisbon with his wife Eduarda and their well-read dog, Baxter.




Connect with Peter at:
– peterdmurphy.com
– Twitter – PeterD_Murphy
– Facebook – PeterDMurphyAuthor





Tour Host Participants:

Visit these other great hosts on this tour for more great reviews, interviews, guest posts, and giveaways!




  

Giveaway:



This is a rafflecopter giveaway hosted by Providence Book Promotions for The Story Plant and Peter Murphy. There will be 5 winners of one (1) copy of Lagan Love by Peter Murphy (eBook). The giveaway begins on September 1, 2018, and runs through November 1, 2018. Void where prohibited.


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Book Blast: JOHNNY BIG EARS, THE FEEL-GOOD FRIEND by John Paul Padilla

Johnny Big-Ears, The Feel-Good Friend

by John Paul Padilla
October 3, 2017 Book Blast


October is National Bullying Prevention Month! Join the Campaign with this Amazing Book!


Johnny Big-Ears, the Feel-Good Friend by John Paul Padilla

Book Details


Genre: Children

Published by: Padilla Goldworks

Publication Date: March 20, 2012

Number of Pages: 40

ISBN: 0979889847 (ISBN13: 9780979889844)

Purchase Links:   Johnny Big-Ears, The Feel-Good Friend on Amazon Johnny Big-Ears, The Feel-Good Friend on Barnes & Noble Johnny Big-Ears, The Feel-Good Friend on Goodreads


Synopsis:



Johnny BIG-EARS is just like every other five-year-old child, but when he starts his first day of kindergarten, children begin to tease him because of his enormously large ears. Follow Johnny as he faces the challenges that being different presents. How will Johnny react to being teased? Find out why Johnny turns out to be a winner in this endearing, thoughtful book that addresses typical childhood bullying and offers children advice on how to deal with teasing. Whether you’re a parent or an educator, now you will be able to encourage your kids or students through this special book and help motivate all young kids to start feeling good about themselves no matter who they are, or what they look like!


Excerpt:



Author Bio:


John Paul Padilla

John Paul Padilla was born on December 11, in Los Angeles, California. He is a multi-award winning author that includes Mom’s Choice Award. He is also a public speaker and advocate against bullying. He is currently residing in the Central Valley of California. John Paul is an ex-model and has danced for fifteen years with a dance academy. He has written lyrical, verses that were recorded by Nashville artists. He has previously published Wings to Cross an Ocean, an inspirational poetry book that encourages personal growth and happiness for adults. John Paul was inspired to write his first anti-bullying book, Johnny Big Ears, the Feel Good Friend, based on his own childhood experiences with teasing and bullying. He has also written Johnny Big-Ears, Meets His New Neighbor Suzy, for little girls, who get teased because of their weight. Both of his books are now out in Spanish. Most recently, Johnny Big-Ears won the Grand prize for best overall, Best Book Cover in the 2017 IndieBRAG First Annual Book Cover Contest.



Visit John Paul’s website: Website or catch up with Johnny Big-Ears on Twitter & Facebook!


Tour Host Participants:

Stop by the other hosts for more great reviews, interviews, guest posts, and giveaways!





Giveaway:



This is a rafflecopter giveaway hosted by Providence Book Promotions for John Paul Padilla. There will be 1 winner of one (1) Amazon.com Gift Card AND 5 winners of one (1) print copy of Johnny Big-Ears, The Feel-Good Friend by John Paul Padilla, Continental US Mailing Addresses only. The giveaway begins on October 3 and runs through October 10, 2017.


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Book Showcase: CHILDREN OF THE FIFTH SUN by Gareth Worthington

CHILDREN OF THE FIFTH SUN Tour Banner

Children of the Fifth Sun

by Gareth Worthington

on Tour July 24 – Sept 25, 2017


Children of the Fifth Sun by Gareth Worthington

Book Details

Genre: Science Fiction, Thriller | “Science Faction” science fiction, action, adventure with fact-based science, theories and mythology

Published by: Vesuvian Books

Publication Date: July 25th 2017

Number of Pages: 407

ISBN: 9781944109400

Purchase Links: Amazon  | Goodreads 

Don’t Miss Your Chance to Read this Free Preview: Amazon  & Barnes & Noble 

Synopsis:


Thousands of years ago, an ancient species from the sea saved humanity; now a cocky, free-diving photographer tortured by his past is the unlikely hero who must save the last of their kind from a global race between nations to control the creature’s power.

IN ALMOST EVERY BELIEF SYSTEM ON EARTH, there exists a single unifying mythos: thousands of years ago a great flood devastated the Earth’s inhabitants. From the ruins of this cataclysm, a race of beings emerged from the sea bestowing knowledge and culture upon humanity, saving us from our selfish drive toward extinction. Some say this race were “ancient aliens” who came to assist our evolution. But what if they weren’t alien at all? What if they evolved right here on Earth, alongside humans . . . and they are still here? And, what if the World’s governments already know?

Kelly Graham is a narcissistic, self-assured, freelance photographer specializing in underwater assignments. While on a project in the Amazon with his best friend, Chris D’Souza, a mysterious and beautiful government official, Freya Nilsson, enters Kelly’s life and turns it upside down. Her simple request to retrieve a strange object from deep underwater puts him in the middle of an international conspiracy. A conspiracy that threatens to change the course of human history.


Read an excerpt:

Freya elegantly glided in front of Kelly, breaking his train of thought. Her slender body slid through the water with grace and ease. She must have sensed his stare, because she turned her head to face him and gave a huge, regulator-filled grin. Kelly stifled a laugh.

He turned back to his equipment to check their depth—sixty-five feet. They were at the sea floor. It wasn’t very deep, but this was where it was supposed to be. He motioned his right arm to get Freya’s attention. He then signaled for her to look down and keep her eyes open. She gave the okay sign.

As they swam a little further, the structure came into sight just as Alexandro’s information had indicated. A large horseshoe-shaped wall, three-feet thick and six-feet tall, spanned more than two-hundred-fifty feet in diameter. Other than that, it was unimpressive
—just an old stone wall. Surely, if a team had already been down here, they would have found an orb? Kelly pulled himself along the bottom, sifting through the sand, picking up each stone he came across. He shook his head and looked across at Freya. She seemed to be having similar poor luck, pointlessly rummaging through silt and mud. He swam across to her and pointed in front, indicating his intent to look on ahead. She nodded and watched as he flicked his fins, disappearing into a haze of ocean and sand particles.

Freya returned to her treasure hunt. All she found were rocks and the odd tin or soft drink can. Ugh, it was disgusting. Even the ocean wasn’t safe from humanity. She reached the outer edge of the stone wall and swam along, keeping close to it. Her gloved fingers prodded into each crack and crevice, not that she could feel anything through the thick material. Her mask was beginning to fill with water. She thought about Kelly’s instruction and began the mask clearing procedure.

Pressing the palm of her right hand against the top of her mask so the bottom released a few millimeters from her face, she exhaled hard through her nose, forcing the water out. A stream of bubbles crashed about her head in a white-water curtain. As it cleared, a small metallic glint protruding from beneath one of the huge stone bricks caught her eye. She clawed her way to it, then started digging in the sand. The fine silt clouded up around her, obscuring her view. Using only her limited sense of touch, Freya kept tunneling under the wall. The familiar shape of a box began to form under her fingers. She dug beneath until she could grip the box with both hands. Tugging hard, she released the cuboid object from its hold in the silt. The billow of sand cleared.

She stared at her treasure. It was a small chest, copper-colored with a green oxidized coating on its surface. She smiled. Could this be it? Could there be an orb inside? The excitement power through her. She raised her head to see if Kelly was nearby, but he wasn’t anywhere to be seen. She swam in a circle. The inability to hear or feel anything was unnerving. She only had the power of sight and that was restricted to a straight line in front of her for one hundred fifty feet or so.

The light above her dimmed. Freya frowned and raised her head to investigate. Above her, the huge shadow of a shark glided by. She knew her mask would magnify any object, but still, the thing looked huge. Its blunt snout and thick body looked positively primeval
—the perfect predator. Panic set in.

Damn, where was Kelly? Clutching her treasure, Freya lowered her head. She searched for the knife strapped to her right calf. Before she could find it, her gaze was met by the cold stare of reptilian eyes. A sea snake was inches from her face, rippling its body to hold its position. Its eyes were fixed on hers. She froze, holding her breath. Freya shifted her focus from the uncomfortably close predator to the shadow lurking behind it. Oh God. The shark?

It was Kelly. A brief feeling of relief washed over her, but it was snatched away by the searing pain of fangs plunging into her left hand. Freya gargled a scream through her regulator and dropped the box, letting it fall to the sea floor. The snake shot off into murk as Kelly tore through the water toward her. Her breathing slowed and her limbs grew heavy. Her eyelids slid closed. She blinked before her eyes closed one last time.

* * *

Excerpt from Children of the Fifth Sun by Gareth Worthington. Copyright © 2017 by Gareth Worthington. Reproduced with permission from Gandolfo Helin & Fountain Literary. All rights reserved.

More about Gareth Worthington:

Gareth Worthington

Gareth Worthington holds a degree in marine biology, a PhD in endocrinology, and currently educates the World’s doctors on new cancer therapies. Gareth has hand tagged sharks in California; won honorable mention at the New York Book Festival 2012 and 2013 for his writing; and trained in various martial arts, including Jeet Kune Do, Muay Thai, and MMA at the EVOLVE MMA gym in Singapore and Phoenix KampfSport Switzerland. Born in Plymouth UK, Worthington currently resides outside of Zurich, Switzerland.

Visit Gareth Online:
Website
Twitter
Facebook
Goodreads

Tour Host Participants:

Stop by the other hosts for more great reviews, interviews, guest posts, and giveaways!

Giveaway

This is a rafflecopter giveaway hosted by Providence Book Promotions for Gareth Worthington and GH Literary. There will be 1 winner of one (1) Amazon.com Gift Card AND 3 winners of one (1) eBook copy of CHILDREN OF THE FIFTH SUN by Gareth Worthington. The giveaway begins on July 24th and runs through September 27th, 2017.


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Guest Post: Cara Sue Achterberg, author of PRACTICING NORMAL



Good morning my fellow book lovers. Today, the Book Diva’s Reads is pleased to host a visit by Cara Sue Achterberg, author of I’m Not Her, Girls’ Weekend, and her newest fiction release Practicing Normal. Ms. Achterberg will be discussing being a vigilant observer as an author, the origins of characters, and more.






Here’s the question I get most often: Are the characters in your books based on people you know?

The answer is yes.

And no. 

Because, sure, they’re based on people I know—but not intentionally. 

All writers, (even the ones who deny it), base their characters on people they know. There’s really no way around it.

Writers, as a species, are watchers. We watch everyone. We note their eccentricities and their oddities, but also the color of their hair and the size of their noses. We notice their verbal tics. We pay attention to their neuroses. Their habits, shoe size, weird fetishes, obsessions, wardrobe and even their allergies can find their way into our mental data base of people qualities. And then they come back to us when characters are being formed in our imagination. There is nothing new under the sun, right? I’d bank my life on it.

So, yeah, my characters are totally based on people I know, but then again they aren’t. My son once had a fencing instructor who was clearly a character out of a book—his affected speech pattern, his pristine grooming habits, his obsession with medieval customs. It is very tempting to use him for a story. I don’t, because my family and others in our community would recognize him anywhere. And that would be distracting and take the reader completely out of the story. (And yet his salt and pepper, perfectly symmetrical mustache just might show up some day.)

If people thought I openly based my characters on people I know, life could be pretty tough for me here in the small town that I live in where we write the check for our local taxes to Julie Rohrbaugh and we get the first day of hunting season off as a school holiday. Everyone would look at me differently. I’d like to think they’d behave better around me for fear of winding up on my pages, but most likely I’d have a hard time finding an open seat on the bleachers for the Friday night football game or a spot at the bar in the only restaurant in town that serves alcohol.

So, nope. Everett, the philandering husband in my latest novel, Practicing Normal, is no one I know. Just as I don’t know any teenagers who regularly break into houses or any hospice nurses who have seven cats.

Still, it’s the mark of good writing when the characters are recognizable as someone you might know and I hope you will recognize a few of these people, especially JT, the brilliant kid with Asperger’s Syndrome (my favorite character).

Here’s a confession, though, I did base the two dogs in my story on real dogs I know. If you’re a regular reader of my dog blog you might recognize two of my previous fosters dogs trotting through the story. Maybe that’s the best part about being a writer—having the power to create not just worlds and plots, but characters and even dogs. 

Yeah, I like my job.




Practicing Normal

by Cara Sue Achterberg
on Tour June 1 – July 31, 2017



Practicing Normal

Book Details


Genre: Women’s Fiction
Published by: The Story Plant
Publication Date: June 6th 2017
Number of Pages: 336
ISBN: 1611882443 (ISBN13: 9781611882445)

Get Your Copy of Practicing Normal by Cara Sue Achterberg on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Goodreads!




Synopsis:


The houses in Pine Estates are beautiful McMansions filled with high-achieving parents, children on the fast track to top colleges, all of the comforts of modern living, and the best security systems money can buy. Welcome to normal upper-middle-class suburbia.



The Turners know in their hearts that they’re anything but normal. Jenna is a high-schooler dressed in black who is fascinated with breaking into her neighbors’ homes, security systems be damned. Everett genuinely believes he loves his wife . . . he just loves having a continuing stream of mistresses more. JT is a genius kid with Asperger’s who moves from one obsession to the next. And Kate tries to manage her family, manage her mother (who lives down the street), and avoid wondering why her life is passing her by.

And now everything is changing for them. Jenna suddenly finds herself in a boy-next-door romance she never could have predicted. Everett’s secrets are beginning to unravel on him. JT is getting his first taste of success at navigating the world. And Kate is facing truths about her husband, her mother, and her father that she might have preferred not to face.

Life on Pine Road has never been more challenging for the Turners. That’s what happens when you’re practicing normal.

Combining her trademark combination of wit, insight, and tremendous empathy for her characters, Cara Sue Achterberg has written a novel that is at once familiar and startlingly fresh.

Kudos:


“Does facing the truth beat living a lie? In PRACTICING NORMAL, Cara Sue Achterberg has given us a smart story that is both a window and a mirror, about the extraordinary pain ― and the occasional gifts ― of an ordinary life.”
– Jacquelyn Mitchard, New York Times bestselling author of THE DEEP END OF THE OCEAN

“What does it really mean to have a normal life? Achterberg’s stunning new novel explores how a family can fracture just trying to survive, and how what makes us different is also what can make us most divine.”
– Caroline Leavitt, author of CRUEL BEAUTIFUL WORLD and the New York Times bestsellers PICTURES OF YOU and IS THIS TOMORROW

“PRACTICING NORMAL takes a deep dive into the dysfunctional dynamics of a ‘picture perfect family.’ A compelling story about the beautiful humanity in the most ordinary of lives: from first love to a marriage on the downward slide to an unexpected family tragedy. Achterberg handles each thread with tender care and we can’t help but root for every member of the Turner family.”
– Kate Moretti, New York Times bestselling author of THE VANISHING YEAR


Read an excerpt:



Waving to Jenna as she waits at the bus stop, all I can think is, Please let her go to school today and stay in school all day. Jenna is such a smart girl; I don’t understand why she doesn’t apply herself to her studies. She could be anything. A doctor, even. I was a nurse, but Jenna is smarter than me. Of course, that was twenty years ago. Before I married Everett. Before Jenna and JT were born. Before we ever lived in Pine Estates.

I was the one who chose the house. Everett thought it was pretentious, and it was. All the houses on our end of Pine Road were pretentious. But it was the nineties. Everyone was building McMansions and taking out ridiculous loans to pay for them. Everett had just left his job as a police officer for the job at FABSO (Family and Business Security Options).

We needed to start a new life. We celebrated the new job and didn’t talk about the fact that things could have turned out very differently if his captain had chosen to bring charges against him. Instead, he recommended Everett for the job at FABSO and made it clear Everett would be wise to take it.

I remember lying in bed holding Everett the day he turned in his gun and his badge. He was devastated. Being a cop had been Everett’s dream since childhood. “All I’ve ever wanted to be is a cop. If I can’t be a cop, who am I?”

“You’re a father and a husband. That’s so much more,” I told him. He didn’t say anything about it again. He got to work. He made something of FABSO. And he’s tried so hard to be a good dad.

I don’t remember much about my own dad, and whenever I asked my mother she would say, “There’s nothing to remember about that louse except that he was a louse.” When I pressed her later, after I’d grown up, she’d said, “It doesn’t matter now. He didn’t want to be with us enough to stay.”

All that bitterness can’t hide the fact that when my father left, he apparently took my mother’s heart. She’s spent the rest of her life alone. Except for me. And Evelyn. Although, once Evelyn left home, she didn’t come around much. These days she visits Mama on Saturdays, unless she has something more pressing to do, which is most weeks. Mama annoys her. I suppose I do too. We don’t fit into Evelyn’s shiny, perfect life.

When I first met Everett and told Mama about him, she was skeptical. “A cop?”

I told her how he’d wanted to be a cop since he was a little boy, the same way I always wanted to be a nurse. I gushed about how he told me I was beautiful and how he said he’d been certain about us the first time he saw me. Mama said, “Men will say whatever it takes, Kate. When will you realize that?” But I knew she was wrong about Everett.

I met Everett in the ER. I was treating a patient who was high on coke or meth or God knows what. He was lean and riddled with track marks, his strength coming from whatever drug was flooding his body. I didn’t recognize him as one of our regulars—the ones who showed up like clockwork in search of pain meds. This guy was out of his mind and covered in his own blood from where he’d scratched his thin skin. Another nurse helped me attempt to strap him to the gurney with the Velcro holds, but he was out of his mind and reached for the needle I was about to use to sedate him. Everett was nearby at the desk filling out forms and heard me yell. In just moments, he wrestled the junkie to the ground and held him still as I plunged the needle in. When the man finally collapsed, Everett lifted him back onto the gurney and secured him.

When he turned and looked at me with his green eyes, the same eyes Jenna has, I knew I would marry him. I told him that on our second date. He laughed. I’ve always loved his laugh.

When Everett started at FABSO, he made nearly twice the salary he’d made as a cop. I didn’t need to work any longer. It was our chance. I would stay home and take care of our happy family in our beautiful house in Pine Estates. It was our new start. I thought we belonged there.

When I open the door to Mama’s house, she’s already calling for me. She may be losing her mind, but her hearing hasn’t deteriorated one bit.

“You’re late!” she scolds.

“Sorry, JT had a hard time picking out a shirt to wear today.”

“He’s not a baby! I don’t know why you put up with it.”

I smile at her. No sense taking the bait. “You’re right, Mama.”

“You’ve always been so indecisive. I swear if I didn’t tell you what to do next, you’d stand there like a statue.”

“Good thing you’re so good at telling me what to do,” I mutter as I go to prepare her tea.

Mama wasn’t always like this. When Evelyn and I were little, she was our whole world. She baked homemade cakes for our birthdays, and elaborately decorated them with whatever we were currently obsessing over—Tinker Bell, Barbies, guitars, or, for Evelyn, a computer one year, and the scales of justice the year she announced she was going to be a judge when she grew up.

Mama read to us every night. I remember snuggling into the crook of her arm, even when I was too old to be doing it. Evelyn would be on her other side and our hands would meet on Mama’s flat tummy. I loved the stories with a happy ending, but Evelyn demanded that she read “real books.” She wanted mysteries and thrillers instead of the children’s books Mama picked out at the library. So Mama began to read Nancy Drew, but Evelyn went to the adult aisle and picked out John Grisham, Tom Clancy, and Stephen King. Mama tried to read them to us. She’d come to a part that she felt was too racy for us and she’d hum while she skimmed ahead til she found a more appropriate section before beginning to read again. This drove Evelyn nuts. She’d pout and complain, eventually stomping off. Mama would return the books to the library unread, but it wasn’t long before Evelyn was old enough to have her own library card and checked them out for herself.

In the mornings, Mama would braid our hair, pack our lunches with tiny handwritten notes, and walk us to the bus stop for more years than was appropriate. When Evelyn reached high school, she demanded that Mama stop, but she still followed us with her car and waited to be certain we got on the bus safely.

Now that I’m a mom, I know it couldn’t have been easy raising us alone. As she’s gotten older, she’s gotten difficult. But I put up with her increasing number of quirks because I feel I owe her. Evelyn doesn’t see it that way, but then again Evelyn doesn’t feel she owes anybody anything.

“Here you go.” I hand Mama the bitter Earl Grey tea she likes over-steeped with no sweetener.

“I’ve already missed Phillip,” she says as I help her out the door to the back porch. She spends most mornings there, talking to the birds that frequent her multiple bird feeders.

“Who’s Phillip?” I ask, mostly to make conversation. She loves to talk about the birds.

The look she gives me is just like the one JT gives me when my random “Wow” comes at the wrong time in one of his lengthy soliloquies on his current obsession. “Phillip is the male cardinal who has begun stopping by each morning. He comes over the fence from the southeast. He’s usually here before the chickadees move in and take over the birdbath.”

I look at the crowd of birds fighting over the seed at the feeder. They all look the same to me. “I’ve got to take care of a few things at home after I run JT to school; I’ll be back at lunchtime.”

“Always leaving me!” she complains. “You can’t even spend five minutes with your mother.”

I’d protest, but there’s no point. She sees things the way she needs to see them. Rewriting history is one of her specialties. I’ve been listening to her do it all my life. When Everett and I took the kids to the beach last summer, she said, “Must be nice! I’ve never had a vacation.” Yet, I remember several summers when Mama took Evelyn and me to the same beach we were headed to. Or when I graduated from nursing school, Mama said, “I’ve always said you’d make a fine nurse,” when, in reality, she’d been telling me for years that I could never be a nurse because I was so weak at chemistry. She thought I should have considered something in business—like being a secretary. She’s been spinning her stories of Evelyn’s escapades, my mistakes, and my father’s general louse-likeness for so long, she probably believes them as gospel truth. They are, I suppose, at least to her mind.

I hurry home, hoping JT has finally decided on a shirt for school. We’re going to be late if we have to argue about it.

Excerpt from Practicing Normal by Cara Sue Achterberg.  Copyright © 2017 by Cara Sue Achterberg. Reproduced with permission from The Story Plant. All rights reserved.





Cara Sue Achterberg

Author Bio:



Cara Sue Achterberg is a writer and blogger who lives in New Freedom, PA with her family and an embarrassing number of animals. Her first novel, I’m Not Her, was a national bestseller, as was her second, Girls’ Weekend. Cara’s nonfiction book, Live Intentionally, is a guide to the organic life filled with ideas, recipes, and inspiration for living a more intentional life. Cara is a prolific blogger, occasional cowgirl, and busy mom whose essays and articles have been published in numerous anthologies, magazines, and websites. Links to her blogs, news about upcoming publications, and pictures of her foster dogs can be found at CaraWrites.com.

CaraWrites.com | Cara Sue Achterberg on Twitter | Cara Sue Achterberg on Facebook



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2017 Book 144: CROSSING THE STREET by Molly D. Campbell

Crossing the Street by Molly D. Campbell 
ISBN: 9781611882483 (paperback)
ISBN: 9781945839054 (ebook)
ASIN: B06XH34GLC (Kindle edition)
Publisher: Fiction Studio Books | The Story Plant 
Release Date: May 9, 2017

This wasn’t the way Beck Throckmorton had planned it. She wasn’t expecting to find herself in her thirties writing erotica and making flat whites for a living while she stewed over that fact that her ex had wound up with her sister. She never saw herself living in a small suburban Ohio town with an octogenarian neighbor best friend. And she definitely wouldn’t have imagined the eight-year-old great-granddaughter of that friend turning her world upside down. 

As summer comes around, Beck’s life is unsettled in every way. And that s before the crazy stuff starts: the sister taunting her with her pregnancy, the infuriatingly perfect boyfriend, the multiple trips to the emergency room. The needy, wise-beyond-her-years little girl finding places in her heart that Beck didn’t even know existed. Beck has found herself at an emotional intersection she never anticipated. And now it’s time to cross the street. Crossing the Street is a funny, touching novel that brims with life’s complexities. Filled with characters both distinctive and welcomingly familiar, it is a story that will entertain and enlighten.  



Rebecca “Beck” Throckmorton decided at a very early age that she didn’t want children. Her one serious relationship ended because he wanted children and she didn’t. Unfortunately for Beck, he then decided to marry and have children with Beck’s sister. Now Beck is a thirty-something-year-old author of women’s erotic fiction, part-time barista, cat owner, and her life has stalled. One of her best friends is an octogenarian, Ella, and her other best friend, Gail, she’s known since elementary school. It’s bad enough that Beck’s sister Diana married the one-that-got-away and is now pregnant, Beck’s friend Ella is now guardian to a lively eight-year-old girl. Crossing the Street by Molly D. Campbell is the story of the twists-and-turns in life, the complications of friendship and family, and love.

I found Crossing the Street to be a fast-paced, quick, and enjoyable read. I liked Beck despite all of her drama. I fell in love with eight-year-old Bob (Roberta). For someone that doesn’t want children and is mad at her sister, Beck does an admirable job of stepping up and taking care of her eight-year-old neighbor, her infant nephew, and her sister. There were parts of this story that made me smile, parts that made me laugh (Beck describing her “blind dates” set up by Gail is priceless), and parts that brought a tear to my eye (almost everything dealing with Bob’s past). Although classified as women’s fiction, I don’t think Crossing the Street can be classified as just one type of story as it is part coming-of-age (for Beck), part family saga, part love story (not romantic love but familial and friendship love), part tragedy, and part comedy. Ms. Campbell has created characters and action that are realistic and wholly believable. I wholeheartedly recommend you grab a copy of Crossing the Street if you’re looking for something to read that’s just a little bit different. I enjoyed reading Crossing the Street and look forward to reading more from Ms. Campbell. 

Disclaimer: I received a free digital copy of this book via Providence Book Promotions for review purposes. I was not paid, required, or otherwise obligated to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255: “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”



Crossing the Street

by Molly D. Campbell

on Tour May 9 – July 7, 2017



Crossing the Street by Molly D. Campbell

Book Details


Genre: Women’s Fiction
Published by: The Story Plant
Publication Date: May 9, 2017
Number of Pages: 290

Purchase Crossing the Street on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Goodreads






Read an excerpt:

My life isn’t exactly bright and shiny. My name is Rebecca Throckmorton. I live in a small town, and I muddle along as best I can. Four scenes from my world:

Scene one: I am at the grocery store. Aimlessly wandering down the produce aisle, looking at the grocery list, as usual, in my mother’s elegant hand. What the hell is a rutabaga, and why do we need one? Suddenly, I see my father, who is long gone from our family—divorce. He is wearing a gold golf shirt, his khaki slacks, crisp and unwrinkled. His hair from the back is a bit silvery, as I am sure it would be after being away from our family for all these years. My heart lurches—He’s back! He came back! I abandon my cart and nearly bowl over a woman studying kiwis, knocking the one in her hand to the ground. I don’t even stop to apologize, because my dad. I come up behind him, breathe in his cologne—yup, Eau de Sauvage. I reach out to touch his shoulder, and he turns around. I gasp. The man is definitely not Dexter Throckmorton. Instead of a Roman nose, this guy has a schnozz. There is awful hair growing out of his nostrils. His eyes are not velvety and black, like my father’s—they are a watery gray and clouded with cataracts. He hears me gasp and asks, “Do I know you?” I abandon the rutabaga and rush out of the store, grocery list still crushed between my fingers.

Scene two: My sister’s wedding. I am wearing a sleeveless, misty green satin dress with two small lines of silver sequins along the bodice. The misty green is reflected in my coloring and makes me look slightly vomitous. I feel about to vomit, since my sister Diana is marrying my former boyfriend, Bryan Dallas, who stands at the end of the aisle, beaming, his horn rims polished so highly I worry that he might start a fire with their refractions into the balcony. As D comes down the aisle on my mother’s arm (see divorce, above), my mother looking for all the world like an aging Audrey Hepburn in a slender tube of taupe silk, I look down at my bouquet and stifle the impulse to hurl it in my sister’s smug, highly-made-up-with-false-eyelashes-and-dewy-lip-gloss face.

Scene three: Me and my girlfriend, Ella Bowers. I sit with her in front of the TV. We like to watch really old reruns of Lawrence Welk that I found for her on the Family Network. Ella pats down her soft, fluffy lavender white hair, and every time Myron Floren comes on comments how much her mother “just loved that man and his accordion.” I nod and agree, because I don’t intend to hurt her feelings—Ella is eighty-three, and I don’t want her to get riled up and have a stroke. I notice my cut glass tumbler of iced tea is empty, and I offer to go into the kitchen of her cozy bungalow and get us each some more.

Scene four: My day job and what really pays the bills. I get home from my part-time job at Starbucks at four. I stretch, try to do the downward facing dog, and fail, as usual, about three quarters of the way down. My cat, Simpson, ambles over for a purr, and then I go and pee, change into sweats, and sit down at my computer, where I pound out a scene in which four orgasms occur within the space of twenty minutes between Travis and Crystal, who are extremely talented genitally. My latest book, Boys on the Beach, is under contract and due at my publisher in two months. When I think about this, sweat pools into the cups of my bra, because I am behind schedule, and erotica pays the bills, not venti lattes.

There you have it.




Author Bio:



Molly D. Campbell

Molly D. Campbell is a two-time Erma Bombeck Writing Award winner and the author of one previous novel, Keep the Ends Loose. Molly blogs at http://mollydcampbell.com. Also an artist, Molly’s work can be found at http://www.cafepress.com/notexactlypicasso. Molly lives in Dayton with her accordionist husband and four cats.



Catch Up With Molly: Website | Twitter | Facebook



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This is a rafflecopter giveaway hosted by Providence Book Promotions for Molly D. Campbell and The Story Plant. There will be 1 winner of 1 Amazon.com Gift Card AND 3 winners of 1 eBook copy of KEEP THE ENDS LOOSE by Molly D. Campbell. The giveaway begins on May 1st and runs through July 8th, 2017. This giveaway is for US residents only. Void where prohibited by law.


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